


Four Pregnancies, Five Children

by Dandybear



Category: The Haunting of Hill House (TV 2018)
Genre: Birth, Canon Autistic Character, Gen, Luke and Theo are both on the spectrum and that's canon babes, Postpartum Depression, Whole family headcanon time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:46:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16759135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandybear/pseuds/Dandybear
Summary: Somehow, the circumstances of their births set the precedent for each of the Crain children.(Crain family headcanon fluff, loose backstory of their timeline.)





	Four Pregnancies, Five Children

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up turning into an Olivia-Theo piece and I think that's pretty groovy. It's just a bunch of headcanons I had about the series. Answers to questions like: "why does Olivia have a locket with the twins especially?" and "How did Theo cope in non-haunted house scenarios as a child?"

Olivia didn’t think the postpartum depression could get worse than what she experienced with Steven, but that wasn’t the depression. Not only, anyway. Not really. He was a difficult birth, two days late and still had to be coaxed out. Steven cried like his heart was broken the moment he was born. Never got over that. Being separated from Olivia. Momma’s boy from the start.

She had this beautiful boy, and a handsome husband, and a beautiful home--and she was numb to it all. Steven needed things. He cried and cried and cried. And that handsome husband, her Hugh? He found more excuses to not be home. He came back from work, too exhausted for her or their baby and passed out on the couch in front of football. Hugh didn’t even like football, he could only be coaxed into watching ‘good’ sports like cricket or soccer. He wasn’t Hugh as she knew him. Wasn’t the man who read Agatha Christie and Edgar Allen Poe to her pregnant stomach. And, with that, she found herself becoming less the woman who’d hum and hold him from behind while he cooked. She became angry, curt, and cutting with him. He wasn’t him, and she wasn’t her, and this little life between them was a testy invader of their paradise.

After the anger came more numbness. It’s like the anger was the last colour she could see, but even that faded to grey.

Hugh found her staring at a wall, coming in from the rain himself, and finding Steve soiled and screaming.

Hugh leaving was a wakeup call. It had her going to the clinic and actually taking the pills they gave her. It had her remembering to be kind. To love. To look a little harder for those colours.

And Hugh came back. He always did. He needed some time to remember the colours too. It may have taken different directions, but they were back on the same page.

With that came Shirley. Shirley, really, more than anything, taught them to be a family. Like with everything else, Shirley was punctual. Born on the exact due date. Labour only took six hours, the doctor joked about needing a catcher’s mitt. Then, there she was, all grey and squished around the face, but also undeniably Hugh in miniature. She’d never outgrow that either. Little Hugh Junior. Hugh-point-oh. Her Shirley, not Uncertain.

No, Olivia didn’t know postpartum depression until Theo.

Theo was an accident. A blessed accident, but one nonetheless.

“You know, we don’t have to have this one right away. We can wait a little bit, Shirl’s so little and Steve could do some growing too,” Hugh said.

“I’m having this one,” Olivia said with a hard jaw.

He didn’t seem to understand that a woman only stays fertile so long and she was thirty-seven. There might not be another chance.

And, they needed Theodora.

She’d learn from the third time around that all births were different.

Theo’s birth, like her conception, was a surprise. Her water broke during a hot bath and it was her and Hugh muddling through umbilical cords and placentas with the help of a midwife who happened to live two floors up.

Shirley and Steven were left in front of the TV with not nearly enough supervision. Both were more interested in their screaming mother, anyway.

The birth was easy, but the feeling that came after was not.

Steve and Shirl were her babies, but they were their own people from the start. She could look at them and see new human beings she helped make.

Theo wasn’t like that. Theo was a chunk of Olivia that fell out one day. Giving birth to Theo was like losing a leg. She’d feel Theo’s absence even when they were together. Some part of her could now get up and walk away. And, it devastated her. She looked down at pale eyes through a fringe of black hair and saw herself staring back.

She didn’t want to be apart from Theo, and she couldn’t find the strength to get out of bed.

Hugh was better this time, keeping everything running while she stopped. He fed her and brought her toothbrush, taught Shirl how to brush Mommy’s hair.

Shirl fell in love with Theo fast. Barely a year and a half apart, Olivia would wake up to find the baby sandwiched between her and her middle child.

The pills and the piling bills got her out of bed and back to life. She was a planet with three moons orbiting her steps now. Steve was the odd man out, he would be for the rest of his life, really. Even when Shirl and Theo fought (which was always) they’d still stick to each other before Steve. It made him cling to Hugh early. Adorable little man trying to carry his father’s toolbelt and hammer.

Five was good. Five could be enough, but it wasn’t.

She was red cheeked and laughing, chasing Theo around the garden shed in flip flops. Behind them, Shirley and Steven engaged in water balloon warfare. Olivia was wreaking havoc as the tickle monster, a tactic to get Theo to say something, when she had a thought and marveled at that thought,

“I haven’t had my period in two months.”

“Well, the greys have been getting more frequent too,” Hugh offered a counter-argument.

He smirked at the murderous look she shot him.

“I am _not_ going grey.” Like she hadn’t just lamented about age catching up with her just that morning.

“We need milk anyway, I’ll pick up a test,” then he kissed her.

The children suspected something, crowding around their bedroom door to fire questions like she was against the wall in the revolution.

“What are you and Daddy looking at?” Shirley asked.

“Is Mommy sick?” Steven asked.

Theo said nothing, just stared, then tugged at Shirl’s hand.

“Theo wants to know if we can have pudding for desert?” Shirley translated.

Olivia had her forehead pressed against the bathroom mirror, silently laughing as Hugh turned a funny shade of grey.

“What’s the verdict?” she asked him in a low voice.

“It’s a stork, it’s a plane, it’s a baby Crain,” he said.

She snorted and ruffled his hair, “You’re a real dope, you know that?”

It was supposed to be a boy. Steven was elated. Finally, a brother to have on his team. No more ‘no boys allowed’.

“What did the speech therapist say?” Hugh asked.

His breath was still short from the ambush the kids gave him when he got home. He was not allowed in the kitchen until they all had airplane rides.

Olivia shrugged, fully aware that she was radiating annoyance, “Same as the last specialist. It’s not her voice, it’s her brain. Implied that we’ve been abusing her since she won’t talk and hates being touched.”

“So you’re taking that out on this poor melon?” he asked.

“You know what? No more specialists. I’m not an expert in Theo like Shirl is, but I can tell what she wants. Maybe she’ll grow out of it, maybe not,” Olivia grunted, almost cutting through the cutting board with her force.

Hugh hugged her from behind, “This is really driving you nuts, huh?”

“I just want my children to be….”

“Normal?”

“Safe,” she sighed.

And they were, for the most part. They fought, but they’d take care of each other. The world was full of monsters, but so long as they were together….

Olivia stood in the hall, watching Hugh tuck Steve in. It felt voyeuristic, a spy in her own household. Sometimes she’d touch the walls and feel the eyes of the house, see through them like they were her own.

“Which one do you want, Bud?” Hugh asked Steve lowly.

“Mrs. Robinson!” Steve squirmed down against his pillows.

“You like that one, huh? Okay,” and Hugh chuckled before launching into Simon and Garfunkel.

They listened to their greatest hits a lot the year they first started dating, now it was lullabies to their children. Hugh would always sing quietly to Steve, close enough to have his nose in their son’s hair. Then a kiss goodnight. Shirley and Theo request _The Boxer_ , heads pressed against Hugh’s chest, listening to his high singing voice rattle his ribcage.

Once the children were tucked in, she’d close the eyes that guarded the house and hold Hugh tight.

* * *

Story time was holy in the Crain household. Teeth brushed, pajamas, and then curl up on the couch together with a book. Theo was never one for picture books, preferring to close her eyes as her mother read, and liking whatever Shirley disliked anyway. Still, all three were satisfied with hearing about Mr. Tumnus and Aslan in the battle of good and evil.

They’d sit together, Steve on one side, Shirl on the other, and Theo on the floor, fiddling with whatever she could find.

Tonight was a rare treat, because Theo crawled right into Olivia’s lap and rested her head against her mother’s growing stomach.

She felt her heart go double-time and her voice shook a little as she read. A click had her looking up, there stood Hugh with a disposable camera.

“Couldn’t resist,” he smiled.

Bigger than ever and weepy, Olivia held Hugh’s hand while they watched the ultrasound.

“Huh, that’s weird,” the technician said.

“What is?” Olivia felt the panic in her voice.

“You said you were having a son, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, the last one we got showed us a boy,” Hugh said.

“Well, I’m sorry to contradict that, but we’re looking at a girl right now,” he said.

They stewed on that in silence in the drive to Theo’s daycare. She was waiting by the door with Mr. Bear, who she still took with her everywhere.

“Did you have fun?” Olivia asked.

Theo shrugged. She got into the back seat and buckled up dutifully.

Olivia was backing out of the parking lot when Hugh asked, “How do we tell Stevie?”

“Well, we’ve got two technicians saying two different things. I swear, these kids working the machines are barely out of school anyway--wait your turn you bit--,” Olivia was distracted by a soccer mom flipping her off, then remembered Theo was in the car.

“Still, I guess there’s room for error. All I could really see was grey blobs,” Hugh sighed.

“I just don’t understand how one can insist it’s a boy and then the other think it’s a girl,” Olivia fiddled with the radio.

“It’s both. They think it’s a funny joke, so they switch places whenever they get their pictures taken,” Theo announced from the back seat.

Olivia almost rear-ended the car in front of them in surprise.

“Can we get McDonalds?” Theo added casually.

(And yes, they got McDonalds because Theo talking, and finding out they had two babies coming was reason for celebration.)

Twins. Sure enough.

Five became six became seven.

“You know, me and your mom were both older siblings,” Hugh said.

Theo sat across the table from them, wide eyed and nodding.

“It’s gonna be your job to look after them. Keep ‘em out of trouble, that’s what big sisters do,” he said.

“And, we know, little siblings can be annoying. They can want your attention or your toys, but at the end of the day… you have each other’s backs,” Olivia added.

“Just like how Shirl and Steve have been looking out for you,” Hugh said.

“I’ll take care of them,” Theo said quietly.

Giving birth to the twins almost killed Olivia. Luke was breech and Nellie had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck. Luke made it out unscathed and screaming, but there was a moment of blind panic that she was going to lose the littlest Crain. There was tearing, bleeding, and then Hugh yelling as the world blurred around the edges.

She awoke to beeping machines and Hugh’s exhaustion-weathered face.

“Liv, we thought… you almost… it was really scary,” he was careful brushing hair away from her face.

“Are they?” she panicked again.

Hugh stood to keep her down, steadying her, tethering her, “They’re good! Both healthy and sleeping. Little boy and girl, ready to meet their mom.”

The name Robin was discarded the moment she saw him, little Luke with his fringe of white blonde hair. Hugh was timid in naming Nellie. Eleanor, for the woman who helped raise him.

“What the hell are we gonna do with all these kids?” Hugh asked, nose planted in Luke’s hair.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to have a family band,” Olivia replied, kissing Nellie’s hand.

* * *

To be clear, she loved all of her babies. She loved how sensitive and helpful Steven was. She loved Shirley’s biting wit and bossiness. She loved Theo’s voice, her thoughts were so unique now that Olivia could hear them. She loved how Luke learned how to make funny faces early because he liked the way Daddy laughed. Nellie though, oh, Nellie. Nellie was another piece of Olivia that had fallen out. Nellie was Olivia’s heart.

Their birth changed the dynamics in the house. Shirley went from middle child to one of the eldest, Theo went from baby to middle child. Dead centre, two ahead, two behind.

The twins brought out a humour and mischief in Theo. She’d started playing pranks just in time for Shirley to develop a wicked sense of humour. Steven never had a chance. Instead, he kept putting sunglasses on the twins and taking pictures of what cool babies they had.

Olivia came home from a meeting late to find Shirley in the kitchen, cookie in mouth and open carton of vanilla ice cream before her. Her eyes were wide and she stopped moving like her mother was a T-Rex and would lose sight if she stayed still.

Instead, Olivia grabbed a spoon. She checked the living room, the walls were stained with the blue light of the TV. Carl Sagan’s voice filtered tinny through the speakers, explaining evolution through Japanese crabs. Hugh was seated in the middle of the couch between Theo and Steve, all slumped together in a heap. Between them and the TV was the twins bassinet. Nellie fussed in her sleep, groaning and punching the air. Olivia adjusted her blanket and kissed that reaching hand, then returned to Shirl in the kitchen.

“How long have they been like that?” she whispered.

“Daddy fell asleep right away, we were all waiting up for you, but Mr. Sagan’s voice is like the sandman,” Shirley said.

“Well, I made it,” Olivia used the fridge to help straighten her back.

“How was your meeting?” Shirley asked.

“Very boring, you would have hated it. How was tonight?”

“We missed you,” Shirley said.

Olivia kissed her daughter’s forehead, “Well, it’s good that I’m back then.”

* * *

They all grew like weeds, one minute it was diapers and daycare, the next, Steve was celebrating his tenth birthday. And, Olivia had to go back to another goddamned speech therapist.

“Developmental disorders are common in ol-late in life pregnancies. You said your older daughter had some issues with speech?”

“Theo just didn’t have a lot to say when she was little,” Olivia said, hackles up.

“Well, both of your little ones are affected, but Luke more severely. Eleanor responds well to social cues, she’s affectionate, and a fast learner. Luke… he struggles with words and loud noises,” the specialist said.

Olivia nodded, smile tight.

Hugh held her hand under the desk, keeping it there to avoid grabbing a pencil for stabbing.

“How much money are we paying for strangers to tell us what we already know?” Olivia fumed once in the car.

“Well, you know we need the doctors to sign off on this so the kids can have support when they’re at school,” Hugh said.

“So they can have separate classrooms and big signs on their backs that say ‘I’m different!’ It’ll be a feeding frenzy of bullies,” she said.

“It’s not ideal, but the support can be there if they need it,” Hugh sighed, “If it doesn’t work we can always pull them out. Homeschool.”

She pressed her lips together, considering it for a moment.

“No. We need them ready for the world and all the monsters it has. The water isn’t scary if they know how to swim,” she exhaled.

“Send them swimming or sailing?” Hugh laughed.

“Well, we build the boat and teach them how to sail, but we teach them how to swim too. That way if they fall off in stormy waters—“

“They don’t panic,” Hugh finished.

That stuck with Olivia when it came to bedtime reading. Nellie and Luke threw a wrench into the preferences of her older children, both preferring picture books. However, a rare consensus could be reached if Theo wants it. Because Nellie wants whatever Theo has, and Luke will agree with Nellie.

(Yes, much of parenting was finding out manipulation tactics for keeping the peace.)

Nevertheless, Olivia’s consensus was reached with a pleading look towards Theodora.

“Sounds cool,” Theo said.

Nellie, with her big eyes and soft, round cheeks, chewed on the air for a second, then voiced her assent.

Luke was more interested in the antique camera Shirley had taken to carrying everywhere.

“I wanna hear it,” Steve added.

(Steven was like Olivia, in that he had fallen in love with words young, and then books all at once.)

“Okay, it’s a good one, I promise,” Olivia held up the cover.

And then she began to read, “ _Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of_ _the western spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded_ _yellow sun._

_Orbiting this at a distance of roughly ninety-two million miles_ _is an utterly insignificant little blue green planet whose ape-_ _descended life forms are so amazingly primitive that they still_ _think digital watches are a pretty neat idea._

_This planet has - or rather had - a problem, which was this: most_ _of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time._

_Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these_ _were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces_ _of paper, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small_ _green pieces of paper that were unhappy._

_And so the problem remained; lots of the people were mean, and_ _most of them were miserable, even the ones with digital watches._

_Many were increasingly of the opinion that they'd all made a big_ _mistake in coming down from the trees in the first place. And_ _some suggested that even the trees had been a bad move, and that no_ _one should ever have left the oceans..._ ”

Over their heads she locked eyes with Hugh, listening from the door.

“Nice choice,” he mouthed.

“What’s primbitive mean?” Nellie asked loudly.

“It’s what Theo is,” Shirley said with a smirk.

“Shut up!” Theo huffed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy belongs to the estate of Douglas Adams of course.
> 
> While I do like writing just for the fun of it, your comments really keep me going on these cold days, so please, if you enjoy it enough to bookmark, could you throw in a few words?


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